


heart of ice

by thesevi0lentdelights



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions?, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Ice Skating, M/M, No Smut, Pining, Rivals to Lovers, Secrets, Slow Burn, figure skating, figure skating chapionship, ice skating rivals, no beta we die like dreams twitch channel, oblivious idiots, skater georgenotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28876923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesevi0lentdelights/pseuds/thesevi0lentdelights
Summary: George is a new contender in the upcoming skate competition, he's closed off and secretive and has Dreams suspicions raised from the start.Deemed rivals, it seems to most that the two men hate each other, destined to play off in the final show. Dream is determined to solve the mystery that is George, and the British man just wants to forget old memories and win the competition.*Or... the skater Au that no one asked for but i just had to write
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 85
Kudos: 579





	1. ice burns too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smologan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smologan/gifts), [crimsvn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsvn/gifts).



> hey everyone !!  
> hope u enjoy this 😁  
>   
> also yes i listened to cigarettes after sex the whole time listening to this and i have no regrets 👍  
>   
> i gifted this to crimson and smologan cos i love their fics and they're pretty swag sometimes😁  
>   
> also omg george confirmed he’s a good skater on his stream last night.... it was meant to be  
>   
> as always if they say they're uncomfy at all i will take it down immediately.

Dream slowly tied the laces round his skates, stretching his arms as he leaned forward. 

First day of the season was always his favourite, new fresh faces, new competition, new routines. He  _ lived  _ for it. 

While many of the faces around him in the changing rooms shared anxious looks and nervous glances, Dream kept his mask of confidence held tight.

He’d done this long enough to know how to start a season; as long as he established his presence early on, the newer recruits would learn who to steer clear of soon enough.

But despite his unwavering confidence, he also had his winning streak up for show, 3 times national winner was enough to show most people who was on top around the rink. 

It was almost boring how easy it was these days, every year came and no one could ever rival him, no one had the same drive.

Sometimes he wished he could conjure up a mini version of himself, just to practice against, just to bring that thrill of competition.

His original plan had been to come onto the rink later on in the morning, when the freshers had given up and were just watching. More space and more attention,  _ simple. _

But before he’d even finished lacing his skates, he heard the hushed whispers among the changing room, the changing atmosphere. He never usually took notice of locker room gossip, but there was something different to the looks on their faces.

Before he could try to decipher the stilted conversations, a hand grasped onto his back, swinging him round.  _ Sapnap _ .

“Dude! You have got to get out there man, have you seen the new kid!” Sapnap called out, way too close to Dreams face. 

He pushed back slightly and felt a frown form on his face, “Wait, slow down, what new kid?”

Sapnap rolled his eyes, body practically humming with energy, “That’s what i’m trying to say! No one knows who he is, he’s like this new kid but he’s somehow like mega talented!” 

Dreams frown pulled deeper and he stood up quickly, pulled up by Sapnap who held his hand out like second nature. He took no notice to the eyes glancing towards him and followed Sapnap out of the room instead. 

As they made their way through the halls, Dream tried to zone out Sapnaps animated chatter about the newcomer.  _ How good could this guy even be? _ Dream had made it rule to never underestimate his opponent, but he was severely doubtful that this new kid was as talented as everyone was making out.

He zoned back into the one sided conversation that had been taking place for the past minute,

“- and geez you should see this guys turns man! They are literally like  _ flawless _ . Like if i could kiss a turn, i’d kiss his! and-“ 

“Sapnap. Shut Up.” 

Sapnap whipped his head round to him as they walked, eyebrows raised, so Dream explained,

“Look, they always big up the new kids every year but they never make it trust me,  _ plus  _ stop jerking off about the new kid, i don’t wanna hear it.” 

Sapnap rolled his eyes at him, “I wasn’t  _ jerking off _ about him, i’m just saying you got competition man trust me once you see his-“

“La la la i’m not listeningggg!” he responded, sticking his hands in his ears and walking on faster.

He laughed on, running ahead as Sapnap yelled from behind and tried to catch up with him, momentarily forgetting about the task at hand. 

But they both stuttered to a stop as they got there and saw a small crowd outside the rink, which wasn’t unusual for the first week of the season, but what was unusual was the way their eyes seemed captured on the display on the rink, or more importantly, the  _ skater  _ on the rink.

Dream pushed ahead with sapnap, heading to the edge to catch a glimpse. Dream's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the newby.

He watched on in critique as the skater, turned and glided on the ice, skating in circles and long loops.

Sapnap had been right, his turns  _ were _ flawless. Almost too perfect, like it was second nature. He felt a frown take place as he continued to watch.

Sapnap nudged his side, smirking, “What did I tell you, newbys got talent.”

He paused for a second, still watching in critique before he answered, “That’s no newby Sapnap, just look at the way he skates and turns, that takes practice,  _ years  _ of it.”

Sapnap frowned in response, “Well I looked at the signups and he’s never been in a competition like this before, and no ones ever seen him or heard of him before.” 

_ Interesting _ , he thought. Maybe this year wouldn’t be as uneventful as he’d originally thought.

“I’m going out there.” he announced to no one in particular, “Someone’s gotta teach the newby who’s top dog around here.”

Sapnap whistled loudly, “Go get em tiger!” 

“Please don’t ever say that again.” he answered while heading on to the rink. 

Sapnap mimed a tiger roaring and he mined throwing up back at him.

*

George repeated the steps, almost unconsciously. Twisting and turning, looping over and gliding, the icy air skating over his face. 

It’d been way too long since he’d practiced in front of a crowd this size, he’d been used to the private one back at home for so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like to have so many eyes watching.

It was easy to drown them out, deep onto the ice, with his earphones plugged in. Music danced in his ears, calming his nerves and he simply let himself skate freely, no endgame in sight. 

He was aware of the new arrival on the ice too, but yet again he zoned it out, zoned out the sounds and movement around him, focusing on nothing but his two feet on the ice. Backwards and forwards he looped the rink, pushing himself till sweat rolled off his forehead, till his muscles burned with use. 

The more time that passed, the more he became intensely aware of the other man skating alongside him, the only one who’d decided to join George on the ice so far. 

The man skated like he had nothing to loose, like a loose cannon. But there was something breathtaking about the way he moved, the way his feet seemed to move like second nature. 

George’s motions were sharp and precise, practiced to perfection; but this man moved like it was as easy as  _ breathing,  _ like the steps took no thought at all. 

George was impressed to say the least, he’d never seen someone skate with such passion. He was almost tempted to introduce himself before he caught a glance of the man's face as he whizzed past him.

Arrogance was smeared all over his face, from the smirk on his lips to the raised eyebrows. He reminded George of the many skaters back home in England, who’s overinflated egos never failed to amuse him.

The man clearly knew he was good, he didn’t need George to tell him that. And judging from the glances he kept sending George, he obviously saw him as competition.  _ Good _ , he thought, someone needed to knock his ego down a few pegs.

The man continued to whiz past him, extravagant turns and jumps that had the crowds gushing. George took notice of him, he wouldn't give him the attention the man was so clearly trying to gain.

The rink slowly filled up as the morning stretched on and new arrivals clustered up the ice. Once he was certain he was close to blowing his muscles out, he slowed down to a stop, edging to the gates of the rink and quickly departing.

Out the corner of his eye he saw the man falter slightly in his rhythm. George smiled to himself,  _ gotcha _ , he thought.

The crowd had mostly moved on now and he quickly made his way to the changing rooms, thanking the gods that most of the newcomers had already gotten ready and out. 

He took his time in the showers relishing the burn on his skin. It was different from his center back in England, there was a more laid back feel to everything, it was somewhat freeing.

He reluctantly stepped out the hot steam of the showers and dried off slightly, wrapping the towel around his waist and making his way to the changing rooms.

He stopped in his tracks as he saw the man from the room leaning against one of the lockers, eyes pinning him down. 

George was unnerved to say the least, he couldn’t get a read on what the man wanted so he simply raised an eyebrow up at him and moved onto his own locker, ignoring the urge to blush at his own lack of clothes

He reached out for things from his locker, quickly changing despite the tense atmosphere in the room. He was used to the lack of privacy from locker rooms and he wasn’t going to go hide in the corner to change.

The man had clearly come here to unsettle George and assert some time of power but he wasn’t going to get a rise out of him. George just simply carried on as if he wasn’t even aware of his heavy presence.

After he’d changed out the man called over to him, “So what's your name, newby _?” _

He said it with a certain tone of sarcasm behind his words, like he didn’t believe George was a  _ newby _ at all, and he couldn’t blame him, because George wasn’t a new recruit in the slightest, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

“George.” he replied simply, not willing to ask the same question in return.

The man's eyes narrowed down at him, George could see the cogs turning in his mind. 

“You’re british.” he said accusingly, not quite a question.

George just nodded in return, carrying on packing up his gear.

The guy stood up straight, looking down at George who was significantly shorter than this man who had to be at least 6foot. George looked up, unimpressed.

The man held out his hand in an almost greeting, smirking slightly, “My name's Dream, pleasure to meet you  _ George.”  _

He said it like a dare, like he was challenging him to a duel he’d yet to find out about.

George turned his gaze to the hand in front of him; he knew the game, having played it several times before. This man,  _ Dream _ , would take his hand strongly, probably squeezing way too hard to be considered friendly, therefore gaining the upper hand against the ‘competition’. 

So George simply ignored it, giving a quick nod before zipping his bag up loudly and turning round. He didn’t miss the flash of suspicion in Dreams eyes, all friendly pretenses wiped clean.

“Hey i don’t know how you britts do it but you’re actually meant to shake someone’s hand in response when they offer it.” Dream called out, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“My apologies.” George responded out, short and clipped, unapologetic.

“Bullshit.” 

George raised his eyebrows at that one, not sure which part of the game Dream was playing this time. 

He turned round with a questioning gaze, “What's bullshit?”

Dreams gaze burned through him, “You.” he said, “You and your bullshit accent and bullshit lies, i know you're not a newcomer by the way.”

George’s heart sped up a fraction, he hadn’t expected Dream to be so forward, had assumed he’d play the same game as the others back in england- passive aggressive taunts and whispers. 

“You seem to have been keeping a close eye on me, seems a little stalkerish.” he deflected.

Dream rolled his eyes, arrogance back in place, “Oh please you and i both know you’ve been keeping track of me too, it’s called testing out the competition,”

He was right of course, but George wasn’t going to admit that, so he deflected again,

“You’d be surprised to find out that not everything is actually about you,  _ Dream.” _

Dream narrowed his eyes, stepping closer, “Bull. Shit.” he responded.

George was intensely aware of the warmth from Dream's body next to his, but pushed down the reaction to flinch away, looking up at Dream instead.

George passively searched his face, his blonde hair curled slightly from the dampness on his forehead, cheekbones shining with sweat. His eyes burned brightly, George couldn’t tell if it was anger, hatred, suspicion or something else completely. 

He looked away first and it felt like a loss to a game he hadn’t even realised he’d been playing.

“Well I'll leave you to your theories Dream, because I really do have to be going.” 

As he took his bag and made his way out to leave, Dream called out, a smirk playing on his face,

“I’ll figure out what you’re hiding sooner or later George.” 

“Have fun with that!” he called out in false amusement before walking out the room.

His heart thundered quietly in his chest as he quickly vacated the building, Dreams smirk playing in his head. 

This was bad news.

*

Dream couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop thinking about  _ George _ .

He hated his stupid british accent and stupid brown eyes that conceleaded everything. Dream considered himself a good read of others, could usually tell what someone was thinking from a simple glance; but George was strangely unreadable, it was  _ frustrating  _ to say the least.

Dream didn't know what to do to him, he usually relied on his intuition and talent to crack down the competition, but George was always so calm and collected.

The past week he’d been constantly in Georges presence, either watching from a distance or skating on the ice with him, but nothing he did seemed to make the man notice him. He debated whether the man was purposely trying to ignore him, as some part of a grand scheme to drive him insane; but then he thought back to George's words in the locker room,  _ You’d be surprised to find out that not everything is actually about you _ ,  _ Dream.  _

Even his offhand comments to George went unnoticed because the man listened to  _ music _ while he skated. Usually this far into the season, he’d already dismissed the other skaters as not worth his time and was focusing solely on his own routine. But not this time.

His feet stumbled on the ice for the  _ second _ time that day and he groaned inwardly.

“Dream! What has gotten into you today, 2 missteps already and not even 11am!” his coach shouted from the sidelines.

He scrunched his face up, slowing down and rubbing a hand over his face, “Sorry coach just didn’t sleep too well last night.”

His coach tutted in response, “Maybe less trying to antagonise the competition and more trying to sleep or practice.” 

Dream rolled his eyes, “I’m not antagonising anyone,” he said sweetly,

There was absolutely no reason to look over but he felt himself glance to the side anyway, finding a certain pair of eyes on him,  _ George.  _

The man was staring in his direction, a slight frown on his face, the most emotion Dream had seen out of the man all week after their incident in the locker room. Dream smirked in his direction, giving him a patronising wave; the man narrowed his eyes in response, turning away quickly in annoyance.  _ Gotcha, _ he thought.

He turned back to find his coach staring back at him, her face painted with amusement,

“Not antagonising anyone, huh?” she said smugly,

Dream rolled his eyes, moving back to skate again.

Once a couple more hours had passed and he’d finished on the ice, his legs feeling like lead, he headed off the rink and joined Sapnap who’d just taken his own leave.

“Shit dude im so fucking tired right now, i could pass out right now” Sapnap groaned, following Dream in the direction of the lockers.

“Same i feel so dead,”

“So d’ya get anything outta that new kid yet?” Subpoena pried,

“Well first of all, he's not a kid, i'm pretty sure he's the same age as us,”

“What- no way have you seen how small that guy is!”

Dream narrowed his eyes, looking his friend up and down, “I don’t know what you're talking about, I’m pretty sure you’re the same height as him,” he laughed.

Sapnap elbowed him in the side, “Dude! What the hell we’re on the same side here!”

Dream laughed in response as they reached the locker rooms but he stopped slightly at the door as he saw George talking to the girl by the water stand, looking slightly tense.

George's hair was still slightly damp from the shower and he was wearing one of his ridiculous white sweaters that hugged him tightly and those dark sweatpants that managed to look strangely elegant on him,  _ classic british _ he thought to himself.

The conversation took a heated turn and George grabbed his water bottle up, storming off towards the door. He locked eyes with Dream on his way past and gave him a slight sneer, eyes burning hotly before pushing out the doors leaving a cold breeze in his wake. 

Dream turned back to Sapnap and the girl - who was one of the skaters for this year. 

“Geez what the hell was his Problem,” Sapnap responded, breaking the tense silence left in Georges departure.

The girl rolled her eyes, “Nothing he’s just a dickhead that's all.”

Sapnap met Dreams eyes before turning back to the girl, “Oh really, why? How much do you know about the guy?”

She narrowed her eyes at them before responding, “Not much, just that he's british, 23 and apparently the biggest asshole known to earth!” she complained, “I literally just asked him how he got so good at skating and he got all tense and shit!”

Dream doubted that was all she’d said but he was still left feeling confused. How could a man who always seemed so calm and collected, blow up over slightest conversation. Maybe his aim should be more forward conversations with him instead. 

“Damn maybe the brits got a dark side in him after all,” Sapnap laughed before walking into the locker rooms.

Dream huffed in response, but stayed in place for a slight second, staring back to the door George had rushed out of. He couldn't stop picturing the way George's eyes burned. He wanted to crack him open, he wanted to see what happened when the man lost control, see how dark his eyes really got when he was done hiding his emotions.

Dream would figure him out soon enough, and after that he’d beat him in the competition too.

*

George was in a foul mood that next morning. He’d hardly got an inch of sleep that night, tossing and turning restlessly. Yesterday had been one interruption after the other, leaving him feeling nothing but tense.

Dream had been persistently annoying him all week and he was getting close to his limit. The man would watch him from the sides or throw him smug looks or offhand comments when he thought George wasn't listening. George would try his best to ignore it but then sometimes he would  _ smirk _ or wave mockingly at him and George could feel his patience warring. He  _ hated _ when Dream smirked at him.

To top that off, he couldn't seem to get a hang of his new routine that he’d been practicing and yesterday had been one mess up after the other. He’d felt his anger rising with every misstep, it made him feel like a failure, like he was  _ unworthy.  _ Made him feel like all his years of torment and pain had been for nothing, because who was he without his ice skating?  _ Nobody.  _

Once his thoughts had continued to spiral, it had just been up to chance when he’d finally blow up; and it just happened to be at the unlucky girl in the hallway.

She’d been pestering him all week with no prevail and George didn't have it in him to go round making friends. But then she’d  _ kept _ asking and persistently bugging him for answers he didn't want to give. And then when she’d asked him how he was so naturally good at skating, well that had just been the last straw from a very very long day. 

Because the truth was he wasn’t naturally good at skating at all, his skill came at a very high price, he’d given up  _ everything _ to get good at skating, had moved halfway across the world to prove it.

He’d stood at the bus stop a very long time that night, silently seething, wallowing in self pity and washed up memories that did him no good. He’d looked out onto the dark street he waited on and had never felt so lonely in all his life. 

Brought back into the present, he stretched his muscles out on the bench he sat on, slowly sitting down to rub a hand across his face, about to pull his skates on.

“Rough night?” A familiar voice called out from the doorway.

He looked up, eyes narrowed, “Something like that,”

He knew Dream had seen him blow up at that girl last night, had seen his eyes follow him out the door curiously. It was just a matter of time before he brought it up.

“So did that girl turn you down or something?” He asked

Yep there it was. George sighed internally.

“No.”

“Ohhh yeah you definitely got turned down” Dream laughed, peering down at George on the bench, “Must suck huh.”

When George didn’t respond, he carried on his monologue.

“I mean i wouldn't really know how that feels, because no ones ever turned me down,” He smirked, eyes bright with amusement, “But judging from your stroppy performance last night, i’d say it doesn't feel too good, in fact i’d say-”

“Oh my god!” he shouted up at him, “Do you ever shut up?”

Dreams' eyes shone brightly and George realised his mistake, he’d flown right into his trap. Dreams face wreaked of smugness as he saw Georges scowl.

“I mean no, you'll find it's pretty hard to shut me up if im talking” He pretended to ponder for a second, before smirking, “Unless you  _ make _ me of course,” 

George's mind went blank for a second.  _ It's just a game,  _ he told himself. But it was too late, Dream had seen him falter slightly, had already won this round. 

“Oh yeah and you’d just love that wouldn’t you,” he countered back, a beat too late.

Dream raised his brows in response, eyes glittering, probably with the chance to one up George. But instead he just grinned wider instead,

“See you on the ice,  _ George!”  _ he said in a mock british accent before humming loudly as he left.

George huffed in response, rubbing his hands across his face again, it was going to be a  _ long  _ season.

Before he could finish tying his laces up, another voice piped up from behind the stall of lockers,

“Well that was interesting.”

George's head whipped up, he hadn't even noticed there’d been someone else here. He looked across to see the shorter man he’d seen on the ice, he was a mediocre skater, but it was clear he had the passion for the sport, and George respected that.

“Do you need something?” He asked, cutting straight to the chase, lacking the energy to dance around the topic.

The man raised his eyebrows, “I’m Quackity, Alex Quackity,” he said,

“Ok…” George responded, eyes clearly indicating that the man should cut to the point.

“Well I just figured you could do with a friend around here.” He quickly replied, scratching his head sheepishly.

George winced slightly, wondering how to kindly turn the offer down, “I’m.. I’m not really looking for friends, sorry.” he said, standing up quickly, ready to walk off.

“Wait!” the man grabbed his shoulder, “What if i said our friendship could be beneficial to both of us..”

George frowned, turning round, “How so?”

“Well you clearly need some help handling the competition, and i’m the best man for the job!” he said brightly

George narrowed his eyes, “I don't need help with anything. And how could you even help anyway?”

Quackity rolled his eyes, “Oh please! I did just hear that conversation, you're drowning out there!” George opened his mouth in protest but the man carried on, “And plus, i've been here nearly as long as Dream has! I’m the best man you have for gaining inside information on the others, which you  _ clearly _ need.”

George took a second to process what the man was offering. It was true, he could use the help dealing with the others, especially Dream. And he supposed it couldn't hurt to have a somewhat friend around here, and the man clearly loved the sport just as much as George did, so he didn't seem like the worst company to have. George narrowed his eyes at the man again.

“I’m listening… but what do you get in return?”

“Isn't it obvious?” he laughed, “I get the clout of being friends with the hot new british dude!”

George rolled his eyes back at him, “I’m so gonna regret this later.” he said to himself.

Qauckity looked up brightly, “So you accept!?” 

“Yes, Quackity I accept.”

“Nice! This is gonna be our best season yet, trust me George!” he smiled, looping an arm over George’s shoulder as they made their way out, “So do you britts like coffee?, cos i know a great place down the street!”

George sighed internally, this was definitely going to be a  _ long, long _ , season.

  
  


*

Dream had never had so much fun in a skating season before. Every time he stepped foot on the ice, he felt his body humming with energy; energy he took great pleasure in directing at a certain british man.

Slowly but surely, he was slowly cracking away at the man's calm exterior, and was finally that much closer to solving the mystery that was George. Dream could finally start to list in his head all the things he now knew about him.

Firstly, the best way to make George respond, was to do what he least expected. If George expected him to talk and talk till he snapped, then Dream would switch up and simply choose to watch the man all day till he glared hotly back, finally cracking.

It was a delicate game between the two, one Dream had no problem playing. George would pretend he didn't know he existed and Dream would assert himself into George's daily life till he was finally  _ forced _ to acknowledge him. Simple.

Secondly, he noticed that George didn't care much for small talk or social interactions; the man would simply ignore most people's attempts to talk to him, and would give quick answers or nods in order to escape the conversation. 

However, he had noticed that George had begrudgingly formed a friendship with the skater Alex Quackity, much to Dreams' annoyment. Quackity had been here almost as long as Dream, and shared the same passion for the sport, even if he'd never been much good at it.

He’d seen them on the sidelines together animatedly talking, Dream had watched on in amusement, waiting for the moment George would turn him away or walk off, but it never came.

And then came the third thing he’d noticed about George; the man rarely smiled and he  _ never _ laughed. Sure he gave quick smiles occasionally, when he wanted something from someone, or out of politeness, or sarcastic smiles to his coach that came once a week. But he never  _ laughed _ , the kind of born from pure amusement, or even a chuckle. 

But he’d heard it yesterday, it was after practice when he was still sweaty and flushed and Dream had been passively watching him while talking to Sapnap. George had been talking to Quackity again and then suddenly a laugh bubbled up from him, it had started off as a giggle that soon formed into full blown laughter, wide and free. Dream had wanted to bottle it up and store it somewhere secret.

He told himself it was for their rivalry, that if he knew how to make the man laugh, then maybe he could use it against him and gain the upperhand in their never ending warfare. But he had been intensely aware of the red hot feeling that pierced through him as George's face had lit up in shock at quackity, once he realised how hard he'd been laughing. He looked at Alex with undiluted fondness, like he truly  _ noticed _ him; and Dream's body burned.

He’d brushed it off and walked away with Sapnap; but he’d been unable to forget the sound in his mind. George's laugh haunted his sleep, his wide eyes and bright smile. Dream had made a plan that night as he tossed and turned; made a plan to finally win this game once and for all.

Dream was going to do what George least expected; he was going to  _ befriend _ the man. He would find an inconspicuous way to slowly trick him into becoming friends, and then maybe he'd finally be able to put aside the anomaly that was George. 

It would be tricky, that was for sure. But Dream was nothing but dedicated, and if it came between him and first place, there was little he wouldn't do.

*

George hit the ground again, wincing at the hard touch of the ice. He’d been practicing the move over and over with no success, and could feel his frustration rising.

He’d started practicing during the late hours too, when the rink was empty and there was no one round to watch him fall. There was something strangely intimate about the silent ice, with not a soul in sight. It reminded him of the rink back in England, the days when his father would book out the whole place for a day, just for him. He missed it.

The strange memories of nostalgia warped round his mind as the night went on, growing stronger with every fall. 

He could practice the routine his coach had agreed on almost to perfection now. But there was something missing, and he realised he needed that edge if he was going to beat Dream in the final competition. Quackity had been feeding information about the previous seasons and he was intensely aware of how difficult it was going to be to win this.

The triple axel; it was the show stopping move missing from his routine, it also just happened to be one of the hardest jumps possible in skating. His father had taught him the move long ago, but time moved on, and George's feet didn't move in the same way as before. Especially after the accident. 

So here he was at 1AM, alone on the ice, falling over and over again till his muscles grew sore and skin grew bruised. Everytime he went to complete the last spin, he bailed, he just didn't have it in him to risk the last turn, it was almost a reflex to back out at this point.   
He didn't get up after his latest fall, instead he just sat there on the ice, his sweatpants slowly dampening under the cold floor. He put his head in his hands, resting on his knees, he wanted to cry. He wanted to cry until there wasn't a drop of tears left in him.

Memories upon memories continued to resurface, the word  _ failure _ tearing through his mind until there was nothing but bitterness. Anger built up in him until it had no place to go, until it boiled over the sides and he slammed his hand down onto the ice.

“Fuck!” he cried out as a sudden bolt of pain seared through his hand and he cradled it to his chest.

Looking up to the tall ceilings of the rink, and shutting his eyes closed tightly, he mentally cursed himself for being such a pathetic mess.

“Well isn't this a sorry sight to behold.” a voice called out from the edge of the rink, cutting through the silence.

George whipped his head round quickly, scrambling up off the floor, the pain of his hand temporarily forgotten.

_ Dream.  _ He stood calmly at the side, his gaze tearing through him and George saw red. He felt stripped bare, like everything was laid out like glass. He stood there frozen for a moment, anger and vulnerability rushing through him.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” He said coldly, hatred lacing his words.

Dreams eyebrows raised at that, “Maybe I should be the one asking you that.”

He stepped over, closer to Dream, not fully sure what he intended to do. He expected to see pity or harsh amusement dancing in Dreams eyes; but he didn’t. His eyes held nothing but total understanding. He knew exactly what George was doing here, had probably realised the moment he saw him there on the ice.

And that was when George realised; he and Dream were two sides of the same coin, they were destined to face each other in the final, had been made for it. Maybe this is what George's life had been building up to. This moment when he finally met his equal. But unlike George, Dream had pushed till he reached the finish line, whereas George had brushed the touch line only to be dragged away. 

They stood there for a moment too long, silently staring. 

“The triple Axel huh?” Dream said, breaking the delicate silence between them.

George felt his body tense up again, previous anger rising up again. Dream was his competition, he shouldn't have seen that. Now he had yet another one up on George, yet another angle that would make it that much easier to beat him.

“I’m surprised you haven't done it before, giving your 3 consistent wins, but i guess it was easy considering the real lack of competition every year.” George answered hotly, 

“Wow, someones been doing their research.” Dream said suspiciously, probably wondering where Geroge was getting his information from.

“Yeah, guess having a rich daddy has its benefits huh?” He shot back, going in for the kill.

He hadn’t been sure how Dream would respond, had simply guessed a few things from off hand comments from Quackity. But judging from the flash of rage in his eyes, he was guessing he hit a sore spot. 

Before he even knew what was happening, Dream had pushed him against the nearest wall, his eyes burning hotly in anger, “Don't talk about shit you know nothing about.” he seethed.

George pushed back until their faces were merely inches apart, “I don't know Dream, I'd say I know enough.”

Dream pushed back again, “You know nothing, you’re just an upcoming nobody,”

Despite the closeness between them, George felt a coldness run through him at the words, a  _ nobody.  _

“A nobody who's the biggest competition you've had in years.” he shot back

“We’ll see about that,” Dream responded, backing away slightly, giving Geroge a once over look and a sneer, “Though judging from those falls back there, i’d say my chances are looking good, you do realise you cant learn that jump from just watching videos right?”

George felt the rage returning, along with unwelcome memories, he pushed Dream aside, giving him a deathly look, “Don't talk about shit you know nothing about.” he throwed back, storming away.

He didn't look back, but he could feel Dreams' eyes on his back as he rushed through the doors and into the cold night air.

*

Dream couldn't stop replaying the argument through his mind that next morning; the darkness in George's eyes, the rage, the sadness, the vulnerability. At first he’d almost felt bad for walking in on something which obviously seemed so private. 

He’d seen George walking into the center late last night as he went to pick up something he’d forgotten, and curiously he’d followed him in. What he’d seen had been unexpected, but not wholly surprising. 

The guilt he felt slowly washed away once he had George's full attention, or more importantly, his anger.

His rivalry with George was growing more uncontrollable as the weeks went on, almost becoming too much to handle. With George, it felt like handling fire, beautiful at a distance, but up close someone was bound to get burnt. And Dream wasn't in the habit of self-destruction.

If he continued to push George in the way he had last night, it was only going to lead to disaster, it would self implode until none of them had a chance of winning the competition. It was a distraction to say the least.

That was where his plan came into plan, befriend George instead, then learn his weaknesses that way. He’d seen Alex Quackity do it so surely it couldn't be that hard? He’d ran it through his head last night, previously he’d been hesitant to put it in action, but after Georges prying last night, he had no qualms repaying the favour.

He’d clocked in early to the rink this morning, at barley 5:30AM; despite the lack of sleep he’d gotten, he felt energized to see how George would respond to him after their  _ conversation _ last night. He wondered if George would just simply keep ignoring him, or if he’d look at him with those dark eyes, filled with anger. He hoped it was anger.

He leaned forward to open his locker, when suddenly the doors burst open, breaking the delicate silence of the locker room, and George stormed in looking a thorough  _ mess.  _

He raised his eyebrows up to hide his sudden shock. He opened his mouth to speak but George went straight towards him and pushed him into the nearest locker. 

“You need to stop!” George said, raising his voice.

Dream looked down at him in confusion, the man's usual smooth brown hair was pushed up in every direction and his eye bags were dark from lack of sleep. His cheeks were flushed with what Dream assumed was anger and his dark eyes pinned Dream down. 

He wondered how the other man even knew he was at the center this early, but knowing the britt, he probably had Dreams schedule down to memory.

“Nice to see you to George!” he called out, masking his bewilderment, “But you know you're gonna have to be a little more specific,”

George narrowed his eyes, pushing down harder on where his hands gripped Dreams shoulder, “You need to stop trying to antagonize me. Stop trying to crack me open!” He shouted, “I know the game you're playing, i'm not stupid.”

“I’m just trying to figure you out George.” He replied evenly,

“I’m not a math problem!” 

“Yeah but i’ll still solve you.” He smirked

George's eyes burned bright, “Stop!”

Dreams kept his eyes focused on George, “I’m not gonna stop anything. Why should I? You're the competition George, and I want to win.”

George pushed down harder, and Dream winced slightly; despite the man's height, years of training had made him surprisingly strong, 

“It wasn’t a request.” George said darkly, “If you continue to push, I'll just push back harder. It's like that phrase; mutually assured destruction. I know youre not stupid,” He paused for a second before continuing, “if we continue this, neither of us will reach nationals.”

Dream narrowed his eyes down at him, surprised at how similar their thought processes were, they were so different, yet so similar,  _ two sides of the same coin _ , he thought to himself.

His plan slowly started to take root as he thought. It was obvious he and George would never become friends naturally, they were too charged for that. But if he could form some sort of deal with George, then maybe it could work.

George silently stared up at him, waiting. The heat between their bodies burned, it was almost unbearable.

“I’m not gonna stop trying to figure you out.” he started, “ _ But,  _ i will make a deal with you.”

George's eyebrows furrowed together, “Ugh, what is with everyone trying to make  _ deals _ with me!” 

Dream's eyes looked down in question but George ignored it, “So what's this big deal?” he asked in annoyance.

“Well, it's obvious that you need practice with your jumps and i guess i could learn a thing or two from you. So i say we agree to practice together at night.” he said, then added on, “Plus it beats you falling down miserably every night.”

George looked up at him as if he was insane, drawing his hand back slightly, “Are you mad! He shouted, his British accent coming out strongly, “We’d kill each other! Plus why would you want to help the  _ competition _ !?”

Dream rolled his shoulder back slightly once George let go of his grip, the warmth from his hand disappearing, “Well it's as simple as this;” he started, “We’re both an even match, we have an equal chance of winning, it's really up to the competition day on what happens. So I don't see why we shouldn't? It simply gives us a better edge.”

George narrowed his eyes up at him, “This is probably the worst idea i have ever heard.”

“ _ But?... _ ” Dream prompted,

“No buts, this will most definitely work out terribly.” 

“Oh come on!” He grinned, “What have you possibly got to lose?”

_ “Everything.”  _ George whispered under his breath,

Dream raised his eyebrows, intrigued, despite himself. Maybe this was the real reason he'd done this, to feed his ever growing fascination with the mystery that was George.

“Fine, I'll do it.” George finally said after a moment's pause, and Dream looked down in shock, surprised he’d actually been able to convince George to agree.

“May the best man win.” He said, grinning while holding his hand out to the other man.

George looked down at the hand offered between them and took it after a moment's hesitation, his hands cold in Dreams warmer ones.

“Don’t expect me to associate with you in the day though,” George said, “I still hate you.” 

A laugh burst out of Dream and he quickly attempted to silence but it was too late, it filled the space between them and the other man stared at him with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“God, I can't stand you.” George said before walking out the door. Dream wondered if he’d imagined the softness in his voice.

Dream was left staring after him in his wake, feeling more alive than he had in years.

Maybe this was the worst idea he’d ever come up with.


	2. midnight frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George continue with their midnight meetups; learning more and more about each other as they do so. 
> 
> And suddenly the lines are blurred and they're not so sure if their enemies any longer, the ice between them melting away.  
> But when push comes to shove secrets have a way of breaking free, and it has the potential to ruin everything they ever built.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys next hope u like the next chapter !!😁
> 
> um yea i listened to lots of sad music for this one LOL
> 
> also i’m currently writing next chapter so it’s coming soon !!!

They didn’t associate with each other during the day time, well atleast George didn’t; if he caught Dream staring at him in his peripheral vision, he took no notice. The only way this was going to work out was if they kept these two parts of their lives separate; they were meant to be rivals, meant to hate each other, involving other people would only add unnecessary complications.

He didn't even know what he'd been expecting when he rushed in that early morning; all he knew was the way Dreams taunts had crashed through his mind, tearing all sensical thoughts away.

He’d known Dream would be there early monday morning, he was nothing if predictable. He’d expected him to fight back, for that same dark face to take over; he _hadn’t_ expected Dream to strike a deal with him, to suggest some neutrality in their feud.

They’d been meeting every night for almost a week now, at half eleven they’d sneak in through the back doors and get ready to skate. George tried to keep the talking to a minimum, but he was fighting a losing battle when it came to Dream. The man asked _so many_ questions, it was never ending.

_So how come you moved to the US George? What's your favourite colour George? Are you a cat person or a dog person George? When did you start skating George?_

He never stopped. He mostly ignored the man, but occasionally he would answer a question if he was bored, and Dreams face would light up brightly, smirking as if he’d won some sort of game. George hated it.

He still hadn’t completely mastered the triple axel jump, but he had to admit, training with Dream had been somewhat beneficial. It was refreshing, working with someone who could finally keep up with him, who could match his every step and challenge him. 

Slowly but surely Dream was breaking past his defences, and he didn't know if he liked it or not. Opening up meant trusting someone, and George wasn't prepared for that, had locked that part of him away long ago. George was perfectly happy with keeping Dream at an arm's distance, and if that meant ignoring during the daylight hours, he was okay with that.

He stared out to where Dream and Sapnap skated on the ice, his laugh drifted over the sound of the other trainees and George felt his chest swell. Despite his wholly unbearable personality, he could admit the man had a nice laugh, and other features.

“Earth to George?” A hand waved in front of his face.

He scowled slightly to himself when he realised he'd been staring and zoned back onto Quackity who was standing in front with a questioning stare.

“What?” he asked, eyes narrowed,

Quackity rolled his eyes, “ _I asked,_ have you decided on your showday outfit yet?” He huffed, “But obviously you're preoccupied.”

Before he could respond, Quackitys eyes searched the ice, zoning in on where he’d been staring, he whipped his head back round, “Staring at _Dream_ it sees.”

George opened his mouth then closed it again, not sure if quackity would believe any excuses he made, “I-”

The younger man cut him off, “I get it man, keep your friend close and your enemies closer and all that,” 

George looked back to the ice, not quite sure where Dream had disappeared off too, “Yeah. Something like that.”

“I mean Dreams obviously got the same idea, the man _never_ stops staring.” Quackity laughed to himself,

“Really?” he said, unable to help himself

Quackity turned back to look at him, “Yeah, c’mon you've got to have noticed by now, it’s kinda creepy if you ask me, mans got issues.”

George had noticed of course, but it was different hearing it from someone else. Sometimes it felt like him and Dream were in a whole other world of their own, it was unnerving to have someone else observe it. He should probably ask Dream to stop.

He was about to reply when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he turned round slowly.

“Hello George.” Dream grinned in front of him, accompanied with Sapnap.

George narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man was up to, “Dream,” he nodded in return.

“As interesting as ever Dream,” Quackity spoke out in a mocking tone.

Dream slowly turned his eyes down to the younger man, “Oh sorry, i hadn't even noticed you down there.”

Quackity rolled his eyes, “Oh wow, a height joke, how original.”

Dream smirked back, “What can i say, they're a real winner.”

The message was clear; _a winner like him._

Quackity laughed dryly, “Yeah well i’d say your winning streak is coming to a close, real soon.”

Dream flicked his eyes back across to George, “We’ll see about that,” he said, the challenge clear.

George stared straight back, face blank, not willing to play the game with so many eyes on them, “Well, this has been fun, but i really have to be going” He said in false politeness, ready to leave.

“Hope you don't have too many late nights George, you’re gonna need all the sleep you can get to win this.” Sapnap smirked as he started to move away.

George's eyes scorched into Sapnaps, unwilling to look at Dream. _He knew. Dream had told him._ He didn't know why it felt like such a betrayal, they hadn't expressly said they wouldn't tell the others, but it had been implied. His chest burned hot but he kept his face steady,

“Oh trust me, I sleep just fine,” he said with a sneer at his lips.

As he walked away, he could feel Dreams eyes pinning him down, chasing after him. He wondered what he looked like, if his face was filled with guilt or his usual arrogance.

Quackity caught up to him as he made his way to lockers, “Damn, that shit was intense,” he said, sounding a little confused about what had just occurred.

“Yeah you could say that.” 

*

Dream waited outside the back alley of the center, breath coming out in clouded puffs under the overhead lights. His feet kept tapping, nervously awaiting the arrival of George, wondering if he was even coming.

He cursed himself again for how stupid he’d been; Sapnap had kept asking about why he was staring at George, sending him questioning gazes every five seconds. And Dream, unable to keep anything from his friend, had told him; told him about his plan and their late night meetups. 

Sapnap had been skeptical at first, and Dream in all his panic had forgotten to tell him to keep his mouth shut about it. And now here he was, standing out in the dark, waiting for a man who might not even show up.

He’d seen the heat in Georges eyes when he whipped his head round to Sapnap, had felt his own heart drop when he’d heard the malice in the mans tone, when he’d refused to look back at Dream. He’d fucked up.

He craved a cigarette, craved the burn in his throat. He’d quit the act years ago, but old habits died hard, and he was feeling particularly frustrated with himself.

Almost like he’d summoned it, the smell hit him, the acrid smoke dissapaiting into the air. He whipped his head up to see George walking across from a couple meters away, holding out a cigarette.

Dream raised an eyebrow up in question, he hadn't expected the man to smoke, especially during a season. The brunette stopped in front of him, eyes stormy and closed off.

 _I’m sorry,_ Dream wanted to say, but instead all that came out was, “Since when do you smoke?”

George glared back at him, “I don’t.” he replied, straight faced.

Dream glanced his eyes down questioningly at the cigarette, still burning.

George took a drag slowly, eyes daring him to respond. When Dream said nothing, he took it away blowing a puff in his face before throwing it to the floor and crushing it. Dream didnt cough but his eyes burned from the smoke and he had to tear his eyes away. 

“You shouldnt smoke this far into the season,” Dream said, unable to help himself.

George narrowed his eyes in return, “I don't seem to remember asking.”

Dream hated this, hated the way George had closed off, the way his eyes stared back in cold anger, so different to the heated gazes the man usually sent his way. He wanted him to push him back again, to tell him he hated him. He didn't want this, this icy glare that put miles between them.

“I’m sorry,” he said

George scoffed, reaching past him towards the door to unlock it, “Whatever Dream.”

Dream pushed in front of him, “No, George you don't understand I really am sorry,” They were face to face now, “Sapnap won't tell anyone though, trust me.”

George looked up at him, “Whatever Dream,” he repeated, “I really don't care.”

He narrowed his eyes down at the man, his eyes unreadable but burning coldly, “Well obviously you do, you’re never late and you never smoke.” 

George pushed him back slightly so they weren't so close, the warmth from his body flooding out, “You don't know shit.” 

“Then tell me,” he said simply, like it was that easy.

“What so you can go straight to your boyfriend?” George spit back icily,

Dreams mind went blank for a second, heart coming to a stop, wondering what exactly George was possibly talking about. Then he realised; Sapnap.

His eyebrows raised up, “Ohh, so you are pissed about it,” almost jokingly.

“Yeah Dream, maybe i am!” He started, voice rising slightly in the quiet night, “Because i thought i made it pretty clear that this should stay between us.”

Dream felt the guilt rise back in him, “I’m sorry okay! It just came out, I couldn't keep something like that from him, but I swear he won't say anything, I promise!”

“Oh you promise do you?” he said bitterly, “Why should that mean anything to me?”

That one hurt, but Dream didnt let it show, “Ouch, okay,” he said jokingly, but it fell flat, “Well you’re just gonna have to trust me this time, and i am a man of my word, because technically you never _explicitly_ implied it.”

George stared at him, eyes indecipherable. “Fine.” he finally said, staring up at Dream, “But you better not make me regret this.” the ice in his eyes slowly started to melt away.

Dream felt that same guilt rise up in him, sticky and black. “I promise.” he said, the words striking through his mind. _I promise._

George finally turned away to unlock the door, Dream wanted to fill the silence that had fallen between them again,

“He’s not my boyfriend you know,” he spoke, “Sapnap i mean.”

George didn't turn around, but Dream knew he was rolling his eyes,

“I really couldn't care less dream,” he said in a deadpan voice, 

“Sure you don’t,” he smirked as George popped the door open and slipped inside,

“God you're annoying.” he heard the man mutter infront as he made his way into the room. Dream smiled to himself, George had that same soft tone to his voice that he only used when he was in a good mood. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad afterall he thought to himself.

*

George stared across into the empty street, his mood immeasurably better than it had been when he’d got off at this bus stop a couple hours ago. The night was quiet and the air slightly cooler, his mind whirred from the events of that day.

He’d gone to the center in an attempt to break off his deal with Dream, to throw taunts in his face that cut deep. But the second he got there and saw the man's face, ridden with nervous guilt, he’d realized his mistake. In a matter of seconds he’d felt the anger start to dissipate, felt the jabs he had ready, melt off his tongue. God he was weak.

He couldn't say he was sorry though, their night practices had become something George had begun to look forward to, something he didn't want to lose. There was something mystifying about the dark air, the way it seemed to cloak the senses, darken the pupils. They were different versions of themselves under the pretense of the night; George would find himself smiling more and Dream would gaze up at him with a certain delicacy, like maybe they weren’t destined to be rivals. The nightfall softened their sharp edges and George found himself willing to drop his armour, if only for a few hours.

And so that's how he’d found himself skating alongside Dream again in the late hours, when all he’d planned to do was cut his ties. It was terrifying how easily the man could impact his mood. Within hours they were back to how it was before, where Dream would lift his hand out to help him up or catch his balance, and sometimes George would let him. 

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the black car rolling up to him before it had stopped in front, and the window rolled down to reveal Dream's face.

“George?” The man questioned, “What are you doing here?”

He stared back at him, slightly surprised, “What does it look like I'm doing?”

Dream looked him up and down, “Well, it looks like you're waiting at a bus stop, in the dead of night.”

George rolled his eyes, “Yes? And?”

Dream stared back at him curiously, “Can you not drive or something?”

George felt his mind darken for a second, uncomfortably reminded of things he was trying to forget, “I can.” He replied, before adding, “I just prefer not to.”

Dream's gaze was questioning and he could tell the man wanted to ask more and George waited for the inquiry but instead the blonde asked, “Do you need a ride?”

George stared in surprise, not expecting him to have offered, “I think the bus is coming soon,” 

Dream rolled his eyes, “Okay let me reiterate; do you _want_ a ride?”

George looked carefully across at the car Dream was sat in; it was an awfully expensive looking car, sleek and black. Trust him to have the most pretentious car possible, at least it matched his personality.

“Fine.” he answered simply, knowing it was probably a big mistake.

As he leaned away from the bus stop and across to the other side of the car he heard the man mutter out, “Thanks Dream, you’re the best! Whatever could I do without you and your great car!”

George slid into the passenger seat, “Talking to yourself again?” he asked, he could hear the humour in his own voice, if he didn't know any better he would have said it sounded flirtatious.

Dream laughed lightly, “Something like that.”

The man pulled away from the stop and started to speed down the road; George grit his teeth slightly and gripped the sides of the seat, the leather seats cool on his skin. He attempted to look out the window but the whirring street lights and traffic put him on edge, his throat wrapping tighter. 

God he was pathetic, it had been almost 3 years since the crash, 3 years since that awful day. The ice, the fall, the crash; separate yet inexplicably linked. He’d rarely been in a car since that day, and even when he did, it was never a comfortable experience, always rising breath and clouded panic. He hadn't even _been_ in the car.

He chose to look at Dream instead, resting his head on the seat and staring out at him. Under the gentle streetlights the man seemed almost ethereal, his tousled blonde hair falling softly over his face, such a different view from his sharp edges under the fluorescent lights of the ice rink.

Without turning his head round Dream smiled to himself and muttered, “Staring.”

George felt his cheeks warm at being spotted, but didn't move his face, only humming in agreement, not willing to feel embarrassment. Dream chuckled in response.

As they approached the traffic lights, Dream's face became illuminated, a gentle orange to red. The low hum of the car slowly coming to stop, blanketing them in silence.

The man turned his head towards him as they waited, eyes skimming over him, turning down to where George gripped the seat, “You okay?” concern filtered in his voice.

George nodded slightly, brushing it off jokingly, “Yeah you just drive like a floridan.”

Dream laughed at that, “What's that meant to mean?” 

“You know what it's meant to mean.” he smirked in response, glad the concern had washed out the man's eyes.

“Typical british.” he said, shaking his head, “Always assuming the worst.”

“I’m not assuming,” he deadpanned, “I am literally experiencing it first hand.”

“Whatever,” Dream responded, rolling his eyes, “I've never crashed before.”

George turned his head, back out to the window as they whizzed round the corner, “Yeah that's what they all say.” he muttered, voice lacking any humour.

He could practically feel Dreams questioning gaze on him, knew he was probably frowning, but the man never asked, just kept driving on. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, it rarely was, but it put a distance between them.

Eventually they arrived outside Georges apartment block, it wasn't the greatest looking place, but he hadn't been looking for expense. He’d intended to have Dream drop him off from a street away, and that was when he realised he’d never even given the man his address.

He turned his head suspiciously at the blonde, eyes narrowed, “Care to explain?”

Dream shrugged, half sheepishly, “I went through your file the day you got here.” he said simply, as if it didn't sound insane. 

George felt his eyebrows frown in annoyance, “You went through my _personal_ file?”

Dream rolled his eyes, “ _Relax_ , it literally only has your address, age, number and ethnicity. You’re a real secretive person you know?” 

George huffed in exasperation, “Maybe because of _prying_ people like you,” he replied, before adding on, “Wait does this mean you have my number?”

The blonde grinned, “Yup!”

George glared back in response, 

Dream laughed before adding on, “Oh c’mon don't look at me like that, we both know you would've given me it anyway.” His voice _dripping_ with smugness.

George took one look at the glint in his eyes and decided that was _definitely_ enough for one night; he pushed the car door open and headed out just as quickly, “And on that note, i'm leaving.”

“Wow, thanks for the lift Dream, you’re so kind!” the blonde parroted,

George grinned from where he walked on ahead, “Talking to yourself again!” He mocked as he continued to walk away. Dreams laughed followed him across the street, he _hated_ it.

*

They walked off the rink together, side by side, breath coming in clouded puffs under the fluorescent lights. Despite the heavy weight of his legs, Dream had never felt lighter; there was a certain thrill of escaping in the middle night to skate alongside your supposed rival. And with the thrill, came a sense of freedom, where all other thoughts would simply slip away.

He wondered what his father would think of him if he saw him in that moment, cheeks flushed laughing at the man who was by all means his opponent. His dad had hated him skating in the beginning, but slowly as Dream had proved his talent, and brought home his trophies, everything had changed. 

Despite never living with his father after the divorce, his dad never lacked with the money he poured into Dreams skating career, maybe it was his way of showing compassion. He didn't know, chose not to think about it.

He briefly wondered if George's father was the same, the coach he had was obviously one of the best, but the apartment he lived at suggested he was far from wealthy. George was a mixture of contradictions, it infuriated him. He could be closed off and cold one minute, then warm and sharing the next. 

Every second spent with him, a new question popped up; _did George have any pets? Did he have any friends? Did he have a relationship back home, waiting for him?_ It drove him insane, he wanted to know _everything,_ wanted to tear him apart and put him back together again. He could blame it on the plan and his need to find weaknesses, but these days he rarely thought about it, could only think of George.

Despite the complications, training with the man really had been beneficial, George trained with such calculated precision, it was almost effortless. Dream could feel the way his turns sharpened and glided, the way George had shaped them to victory. 

Sometimes he would just simply watch as the man skated alone on the ice, like he was the only one there. He wondered who’d trained George, because the brunette was simply breathtaking to watch, not a single fault. While Dream skated with his body and passion, George moved with his mind, never faltering, always one step ahead. 

He’d watch until the man called out to him in annoyance telling him to stop staring, and Dream would grin back lazily saying something flirtatious that barely passed for a joke. George would huff and skate away, but he always caught the smile pulling at his lips, and if he was lucky enough, a faint flush to the cheeks.

They walked together to the locker rooms, George walking slightly ahead, humming to himself. He wore a white shirt today, which was far more baggy than his usual form fitting outfits, he looked softer today, his hair ruffled and soft grey sweatpants; Dream couldn't say he hated the look.

As they headed into the changing rooms, Dream swore he heard the sounds of doors opening from the front of the center.

“Hey Dream, i think i should practice the axel more tomorrow what do you-” 

“Shhhh!” Dream cut in, pricking his ears up to catch the sound from the hallway, George sent him a quizzical look, annoyed at being cut off.

Then he heard it, someone talking on the phone, it almost sounded like Quackity, and the person was heading straight to the locker rooms. Dreams heart stopped and he looked around frantically.

“Dream, what on earth are you-” George started, but was stopped when Dream pulled him to the shower blocks and pulled him into one of the cubicles, placing a hand over the brunette's mouth, which was parted in surprise.

George's eyes went wide as they were shoved against each other, he wriggled against Dream's hand before he pushed a finger to his lips, indicating for the man to be quiet. George looked at him as if he were insane before he heard the sound of the door pulling open and a voice filtering through.

Dream listened closely, it _was_ Quackity, he came in talking on the phone opening up his locker, “Yeah mum, I’m getting it now geez,” he muttered, “God it's not like I forgot the keys on purpose!”

Dream rolled his eyes, mentally cursing the man that was Alex Quackity, forever a hindrance to his life. He remembered once when Quackity had set the fire alarm off from _weed_ just when his father had come to watch him play. It was like the man lived to burden Dream's life.

He looked back to George and the man was grinning against his hands, trying not to laugh, his eyes bright with humour; Dream pushed his hands down harder and Georges eyes went wide again before narrowing in on him, rolling his eyes as he smirked back down at the man.

Dream fought hard to ignore the way their bodies were pulled together, he could feel every part of the man's body, which was still hot and sweaty from their practice, he mentally cursed himself for letting him get into this compromising situation.

George, at least, didn't seem to be faring too well either, his cheeks were obviously flushed, even in the darkness, and his eyes were pointed upwards, not looking directly at him. He kept his hand over the man's mouth, even when it wasn't really necessary. George licked up into his hand and he flew it back quickly sending a disbelieving glance down to the man; the brunette simply shrugged, unapologetic. 

They were so close now, breath mingled together. Up close Dream could smell the faint scent of mint on George, it suited him. He looked down to the man whose eyes were focused on the tiled walls. His eyes were fully black in the dark, and lips pouted, Dream had to look away, he was too much up this close.

After a few minutes, Quackity _finally_ left the locker room, still distracted by his mother on the phone. Once the door flew closed, he felt George blow out a breath of relief against him and leaned his head onto the front of Dream's chest, laughing slightly in disbelief.

“Fucking quackity.” George giggled out, Dream felt himself smile in response, slightly breathless.

And then George pulled away, accidently leaning onto the shower button from behind.

Water suddenly sprayed down onto them from above, soaking them completely, Dream scrambled out, George following on after to escape the spray,

“Fuck!” he wheezed out, slightly deliriously, “You idiot!”

George laughed in response, so hard that he had to bend down to catch his breath, hair dripping everywhere, it was a manic type of laugh and Dream loved it. If he could have frozen a moment in time, it would've been this one, he wanted to bottle the man's laugh and keep it forever. It was the type of laugh you knew rarely came out, and when it did, it was a sight to behold.

Dream stared down in a trance as George leaned back up, wiping slightly at his eyes, “Oh god!” he said, in between gasped breaths, “The look on your face! Priceless!”

He tried to look annoyed but how could he in the face of all this? He stared back, totally enamored; the brunette's white top had gone almost see through under the shower spray and he doubted his own clothes looked any better.

George finally looked up to stare back at him, and the spark in his eyes slowly morphed into something that burned hotter. He looked Dream up and down, his own frame drenched and clinging tightly to his skin.

Dreams heart pounded in his ears and he could barely hear himself think; the way George looked at him _unravelled_ him, exposing every inch of himself. He swallowed deeply and saw the brunette follow the moment, breath stuttering for a second.

But then he looked away quickly and the moment was broken, sounds of the dripping shower and humming lights filtering back through. Dream laughed slightly to himself, not even sure what had just happened.

“You’re such an idiot,” he said, with more softness than he’d intended.

George grinned sheepishly back at him, “You look kind of wet Dream” he laughed,

He rolled his eyes in return, “Yeah, well i didn't realise you intended to take _shower_ while i was still in there, seems a little forward, no?”

“You’re the one who pushed us in there in the first place!” he said indignantly

“Yeah! Because your dumbass friend decided to take a late night stroll.”

George huffed in annoyance, “Whatever Dream, god you're so annoying.”

He smirked up at him, “Yeah but you love it.”

George's eyes flared brightly before he rolled his eyes, and turned back to his locker “Keep telling yourself that Dream.”

*

Once they’d finished their long routine, Dream went off to the side quarters to see if there was a drink anywhere, breathing heavily as he did so. George watched him leave from where he sat on top of the barrier on the ice rink, legs numb. They’d both pushed themselves to the brink today, not stopping till they felt sick. But George still hadn’t mastered the triple axel, most of the time he’d get it, easy as it had been 3 years ago; but then sometimes he’d hold himself back last second, only to fall and crash.

He’d felt frustration begin to prick at his eyes before Dream had collapsed on the floor, claiming he’d throw up if he skated any longer. He wasn't sure if that was true or if he could sense that George was at his limits. Either way, he’d stopped gladly.

He stared down at the ice below him, feeling more defeated than usual, with the competition in only 2 days, he couldn't be messing up like this. He’d seen Dream’s wince everytime he fell, seen the way he held back in his criticisms. George hated it.

Before he could sink any lower into his thoughts, Dream appeared from the sidelines, grinning suspiciously. George narrowed his eyes at the bottle behind his back.

“What? He asked skeptically to the man,

Dream laughed and brought his hand round to reveal a bottle of alcohol, “Vodka!” 

George rolled his eyes in disbelief at the american, “Oh cmon, you can't be serious! It's like the competition in less than 2 days.”

Dream jumped up to sit next to him, “That's exactly why we should do it, there's nothing more we can do now George, it's all up to the day.” He offered him the bottle and George eyed it dubiously, still not in agreeance. Dream rolled his eyes, “Fine, why don't we make it a game then? You've always been good at those.”

George pulled his eyes up to the Americans, who was gazing down at him, “What sort of Game?” He asked, knowing he’d probably regret it.

Dream grinned, “A question game. We ask each other questions and if you don’t answer, you take a drink!”

George knew it was most definitely a bad idea, but he couldn’t ignore the allure of the game. He had in his mind _many_ questions he wanted answers to; while Dream never failed to stop talking, with little stories here and there, he never revealed anything sensitive about himself, always pulling back. It drove George insane.

So he grabbed the bottle off the man and looked up at him, eyes challenging, “Ask me a question then,” he teased, ignoring the way his heart thudded forcefully in his chest at the thought of letting his secrets go.

Dream's eyes went wide in surprise before he smirked back, “Fine, what's your favourite colour?” 

George felt a laugh rip out of him, Dream always continued to do what he least expected, “What? Out of all the questions and you ask that?”

Dream only grinned in response, “You can take a drink if the question was too _sensitive_ for you.”

He rolled his eyes before answering, “Blue.” He would've left it at that normally, but he wanted to tell Dream more, “I’m colour blind so its the only colour i can really see properly.” he shrugged.

The american nodded in response, clearly content with his answer, “Ask me something then.” He said, taking the bottle back, his warm hands brushing Georges as he did.

George thought quietly before answering, “cats or dogs?”

Dream laughed, “Easy, cats obviously!”

George thought he probably already knew that, but he hadn’t wanted to go in too deep too fast, they had all night. While he was debating his next possible questions Dream grinned and asked,

“Describe your first kiss?” 

George’s thoughts halted to a stop and he glared back at Dream, knowing full well he wasn’t about to tell the story of fumbling hands and awkwardness, 

“Pass the drink,” he sighed, and Dream laughed down at him as he took a large swig from the bottle, wincing slightly as it burned its way down.

“Who’s your favourite sibling?” George shot back, smirking. From what Dream had described, he knew he loved them all equally, he’d never willingly pick a favourite.

Now it was Dreams turn to glare back as he grabbed the bottle back and took a long gulp, grimacing as he swallowed. “Fair play,” he muttered, “Could never pick between those little gremlins.”

They continued to ask questions into the night, questions tossed to and fro. Favorite places, favorite foods, aspirations and goals. Sometimes they'd choose to drink, questions too embarrassing to answer, and they’d begrudgingly take another sip from the bottle. As the night went on George could feel himself getting more intoxicated, thoughts scattering, mind buzzing.

He giggled uncontrollably as Dream asked him which his favorite star wars movie was, _i'm not watching your stupid nerd movies Dream,_ he'd laughed

Dreamed chuckled in response, muttering something about Georges lack of taste before staring up to the ceiling, pausing in thought. George gulped slowly as the man brought his eyes back down to him, eyes serious again, 

“Why were you signed on as a new recruit if you’ve been skating for so long George? What happened?”

George froze in place, looking away quickly. Everything in him screamed at him to run, to push it all away. _Take a drink, you don’t need to answer,_ he thought to himself.

Instead he replied quietly, “It’s not your question yet.”

“Answer it anyway?” he said softly.

He could tell Dream was still looking down at him, probably with a soft look in his eyes, patient and waiting. He didn't owe the man anything, yet he found himself wanting to tell him anyway. He looked up to the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, _how would he even start?_

“Ice skating ran in my family, it's been part of my life since as long as i can remember,” He started quietly, “my father was a figure skater back in his day, won a shit ton of trophies, and so he taught me everything he knew, _everything.”_ He winced slightly to himself as he thought back on it, memories flooding in. “I won competitions as a junior, thrived off it, my Dad was always there on the sidelines watching, but on my first international competition as an adult I had an accident the day before the championship.”

He scrunched his eyes shut, the sharp thoughts cutting through his foggy mind. A coldness started to creep through his body before he felt Dream's hands clasp onto his, squeezing tightly; he still couldn't look up but he clung onto the feeling of the man's warmth. With a deep breath he slowly carried on,

“I messed up, got too cocky, attempted a jump I shouldn't have to prove to the others I could beat them. But I fell. Badly. I ended up breaking my leg, off skating for 6months.” He gripped tighter onto Dream's hand, getting to the worst part, “My dad- he- he got into a crash on the way to the hospital, driving too _quickly_ they said. He died on impact.” George could feel the tears on his face, the alcohol letting everything rush through, and could hear Dreams little intake of breath.

“George- i’m, i’m so _sorry_ that happened to you.” Dream whispered out,

“Yeah.” he laughed bitterly, letting go of the man’s hands to wipe his tears away, “I fell off the deep end after that, you know my Dad had been my whole life and everything merged into a blur after that, I even quit skating for a while. My mum closed off, never really got over it. It was only 3 years later that I realised I had to get my life back on track, saw a therapist, stopped going through everything on auto pilot. But i could never quit skating, it was always on my mind. It was only a matter of time before I started it again.”

“Junkie,” Dream laughed out softly, bumping his shoulder with his.

George smiled in return, “Takes one to know one,”

“George.” the man said delicately, “Thankyou for trusting me with this.”

He bumped his shoulder back in response, grabbing for the bottle and taking one long gulp, the alcohol burning away any reminiscence of those bitter memories. 

“My turn,” he said pausing again, “Why’d you get so tense when I mentioned your dad that time?”

Dream huffed out slowly, like he’d been expecting the question, “My dad never really cared for my skating, always thought it was a _girls_ sport, wanted me to get into football or some shit like that; he never came to any of my competitions until he realized that i’d actually gotten good at the sport. Once he finally saw potential in me, he started pouring money into everything I did, ‘ _nothing but the best for my son’_ he'd say.” Dream huffed out bitterly, “Once i started winning more mainstream competitions, people accused me of having my dad rig all my competitions so i’d win, it became a common rumor.” 

Dream rubbed a hand across his face harshly, “The worst part was that I never even knew if they were true, I never asked my dad cos i was scared of what he’d say. I know now that it was nothing but gossip, but back then i felt like i had to prove myself to everyone, to _validate_ myself. It sucked.” he sighed out heavily, “My dad doesn't even watch them anymore just rings to hear the results, _‘I expect nothing but the best’_ he’d say. The pressure was suffocating.” 

George took his hand in return, squeezing tightly like Dream had done before, “We both got daddy issues then, huh?” he said in a litany of an answer. He’d never been any good at serious conversations, always wriggling for a way out.

Dream wheezed out in response, “I hate you.” 

George grinned back, “No you don’t”

“No. I don't.” Dream responded softly, almost like a secret.

*

They stayed there silently for a while, the soft blanket of the night falling over them. Dreams head rested on George’s, and they sat there taking in each other's warmth. He knew the only thing keeping them close was the alcohol pounding through their veins, it blurred the mind.

Usually George would’ve pushed him off by now, huffing indignantly, claiming he was too clingy. And Dream would have laughed in response before the distance stretched out between them once again. But now, under the pretense of intoxication, they could sit here comfortably, minds too foggy to intervene.

Dream smiled down to the shorter man, he’d found out so much about him that night, it was like finally being given the missing pieces to the puzzle he’d been trying so hard to put together. Everything started to make sense, George’s anger, his coldness, his unwillingness to form connections. He wanted to hug the man and tell him he was strong and that he was the bravest person that he’d ever known. But he knew George didn't want that, so he didn’t. instead he let the silence wash over them, like a late night tide clearing over the sand.

After a while he took out his phone to ask Sapnap for a lift, knowing he was too drunk to drive.

**D:** _pls cokjd u givv liftgh to me and gerirgege_

 **_D:_ ** _I cankt drive_

 **_D_ ** _: 2 drunkj_

**_S:_ ** _???_

 **_S_ ** _: Srsly dude_

 **_S:_ ** _omfg okay i'm on my way_

 **_S_ ** _: geez the things i do for you and ur bf smh_

**_D:_ ** _thaonkjs luv u_

“Sapnap said he can pick us up,” He said quietly to George, breaking the silence.

George hummed in response before lifting his head up to Dream, 

“You and Sapnap… are you, y'know… are you involved?”

Dream frowned, “Involved?” he asked

George rolled his eyes, “You know.. Like _romantically_ involved.”

“No!” Dream wheezed out a laugh, “ i told you he's not my boyfriend,”

“Oh, um, okay, good to know,” George got out, words slightly slurred.

Dream grinned back in response, his mind was whirring and the man's eyes shone brightly in the dark, shimmering questions left unsaid.

“My question,” he looked down to George, pausing slightly, “Have you ever kissed a boy?”

The brunette looked up quickly in disbelief, Dream could hardly believe he’d asked the question himself, but it was out now and he couldn’t take it back. He thought he probably knew the answer anyway, but wanted it confirmed.

George rolled his eyes and looked away, “Yes Dream, I have,”

He nodded his head in return, “Cool.”

George was looking up at him now, eyes dark, eyes curious, “And have you ever kissed a boy?”, 

They were face to face now and Dream's heart pounded loudly, he wondered if George could hear it up this close, if the man could sense the way his systems went into overdrive around him.

He reached across for the vodka, intending to take a drink in litany of an answer but George held a tight grip on it and it left Dream leaning over, faces inches apart, hands both clasped around the bottle. Their breaths mingled together and his thoughts stuttered to a stop, focused slowly on the brunette in front of him.

 _George_ , he thought,

“Dream,” the man whispered back, everything seemed blurred, like something out of a fantasy.

He saw George look down to his lips and back up to his face, their eyes locked together. Dream took a gulp, the man's eyes were so dark, probably a reflection of his own. _They were close enough to kiss._ In the back of his mind he knew it was a bad idea, but as the alcohol flowed through him, he couldn't ignore the heat in his chest, spreading throughout him setting everything alight. George _burned_ him, and he gladly welcomed the flames.

Their noses brushed together and then he was gone.

He didn't know who moved first but their lips slowly joined together; his heart stuttered to a stop at the first hard press of lips against his own. George's lips were hot on his and he let out a soft surprised gasp as Dream brought his hands up to Georges hair. He gripped his hands tightly on and George brought his own hands up to slip them round Dream's neck. 

George kissed him like the whole world was cold and the only source of warmth was Dreams lips, like it was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with his mouth. 

Dream let himself be consumed by the fire within, didn’t come up for air until his head pounded. He wanted _everything_ and more, his head was empty, all that scattered through was _George, George, George._ In that moment, the whole world washed away, leaving nothing but the connection of their lips.

But then just as suddenly, his phone rang through in his pocket, cutting through the delicate silence, shattering the moment. George ripped his lips away and Dream stuttered back, momentarily dazed. 

His skin was buzzing. He felt winded, like he'd survived a half-marathon but he also felt alive, like he could run another five more. The brunette breathed heavily in front, eyes black and hair disheveled, Dream stared on for a second before he hastily grabbed for the phone in his pocket to see a missed call from Sapnap and several alerts telling them he was waiting outside.

“Sapnaps here,” He said breathlessly,

George nodded in response, looking slightly speechless.

“Let's go then,” he responded, sounding short of breath.

The man hopped off the side and headed off in the direction of the exit, Dream stared back in his wake, watching his moving figure get smaller and smaller. He brought his hands up to his lips in a trance, wondering if he’d imagined the entire kiss, if it was just a drunk figment of his imagination. 

Shaking his head slightly to brush it off, he jumped down and followed Georges retreating figure to the car, head spinning. 

The journey to the car was silent but the energy around them seemed charged. Sapnap seemed pissed to be up so late, Dream’s body was practically humming with energy and George gazed out the window into the night, avoiding his stare.

“Fuck, what is up with you two tonight, didn't realize you were such silent drunks,” Sapnap finally said, breaking the tension.

“Nothing.” They both replied in unison, Dream winced at how predictable they both were.

Sapnap rolled his eyes, “Okay geez, you don't kiss and tell i guess,” He laughed,

George froze and sent a questioning stare in Dreams direction and he just shrugged as if to say, _what? I didn't tell him anything._ George narrowed his eyes in return as if to say, _liar i don't believe you._

 _“_ Oh my god please stop with your silent conversations! You guys make me sick.” Sapnap cut in.

George shrugged and went back to staring out the window, Dream sent an apologetic glance Sapnaps' way then continued to passively glance at George from where he sat.

Eventually they arrived at Georges house and the man got out, sending an unreadable look in his direction before walking out into the dark and not looking back. Dream slumped down in his chair, sighing loudly.

He wanted to follow George back to his apartment, see if the man would make that soft surprised gasp again. He wanted to know the words he whispered when he was asleep, the Dreams he kept beneath the surface. He wanted everything and more. 

He wondered what George would do if he just marched up there, pushed him against the wall and kissed him again. Wondered what was even holding him back? He felt frozen in time, could feel the man slipping away.

“Rough night?” Sapnap chuckled from up front, starting the car up and driving away slowly. The car hummed softly and Dream watched on as George's apartment drifted further into the distance, swallowed up into the night. He felt like he was losing something he didn't even realize he could have.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

"Wanna tell me about it?" Sapnap asked, voice softer now,

And so Dream told him everything.

*

George glanced out onto the ice in front, stretching slowly and preparing for his last rerun on the ice. His mind was still whirring from the previous night, head pounding from the after effects of excessive alcohol. 

He hadn’t seen Dream this morning, which was unusual since the man was always the first one there at the earliest possible time, all bright smiles and energy. He assumed that the American was just hungover, but he couldn't help but debate whether the man was avoiding him, desperate to forget the previous night's events.

George could still remember it, _vividly._ He tried to erase the memory but it seemed ingrained into his mind, every time he closed his eyes it was there, _Dreams lips, his skin, breaths mingling together._

He shook his head, attempting to wipe his mind clear, erasing those thoughts that did him more harm than good. No matter what happened, he’d have to face Dream off tomorrow, and this complication had the potential to ruin everything, to demolish everything he’d ever worked for. He _had_ to forget it.

Determined to move on, he skated off onto the ice, sharp turns and gliding twists following in his wake. With his music turned in, a melancholy rhythm playing in his ears, he lost himself in the motions, letting his body take over. 

Quackity still hadn’t arrived so it left him with the whole morning free of interruption, with nothing to do but skate. But strangely he found himself feeling lonely, without the constant chatter from Quackity or smug gazes from Dream. He hadn't realized how much he depended on them.

Towards the end of his routine in the early afternoon he saw Dream waving him over from the sidelines. He frowned to himself, they didn't usually interact in the daytime, saving it for the night. But still despite himself he felt his legs skate off the ice and towards the American. 

Dream gave him a quick smile as he approached, scratching his head slightly but there was something off about his demeanor. George realised that the man was _nervous,_ it was so unlike Dream that he felt himself speechless.

“Hey,” the man said, feet tapping

“Hey,” George repeated back, looking up at Dream he looked as terrible as he himself had looked this morning. Dark bags lined his eyes and his hair was pushed up in every direction. It put George on edge immediately, not used to seeing Dream so unhinged.

He felt his heart sink in his chest, the reason clicking into the place. It was the kiss. Dreams body seemed to be buzzing with unsaid words, he looked slightly uncomfortable and George didn't have it in him to hear Dreams rejection. It was better this way anyway he told himself.

Just as the man was about to speak up, George cut in, “Look, about last night-” He saw Dreams eyes go wide and so carried on, “We should just forget about it right? No hard feelings?”

Dream opened his mouth and closed it, eyes unreadable, a frown drawn onto his eyebrows, “And- and is that you want?” he said slowly,

George frowned in response, “I mean, it's easier that way isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Dream started, “I mean George looked like last night it was- “ The man was suddenly cut off as a hand gripped George's shoulder and spun him around forcefully. 

It was Quackity, and he was shocked speechless when he saw the angry expression on the man's face. Looking up he saw Sapnap running over before stopping slightly at the sight of the three of them, a guilty expression on his face.

“Quackity, what are you doing?” Dream asked, an impatient tone to his voice,

“What am i doing!?” Quackity shouted, “What are you doing _Dream?_ You know I used to respect you, despite how annoying you were! But this! This is low even for you.”

Dreams face had gone pale in response and he looked slightly shell struck. George watched on in confusion, not following on with the conversation, but a heavy feeling of dread sinking in his chest

“Quackity- what are you talking about?” he said hesitantly,

“I’m talking about you and Dream, and how he's _manipulating_ you!” 

Dream cut in, “Hey - you know it's not like that!”

“No!” Quackity interrupted, “I don't wanna hear it, Dream!”

George tugged Alex back, “Hey- tell me what the fuck your talking about. Now.” he said voice deadly serious.

Guilt flooded into Quackitys eyes and George hated it, “I’m talking about that _deal_ you and Dream made, I overheard him and Sapnap talking about it in the locker room. He only made it so he could learn all your secrets and find your weaknesses! He’s using you to gain an upper hand in the competition.”

George felt slightly dazed, couldn't quite believe what he was saying, “What?” he said quietly, all the hardness in his voice dissolved away,

“I’m sorry George, Sapnap tried to stop me when he found out i knew, he was in on it the whole time.” Quality finished off quietly.

George took a slow step back, breathing getting tighter. He looked up to see Dreams eyes pinned onto his, shock and desperation wavering within,

“George- please just let me explain!” He started, reaching out to brush his hand,

George wrenched his hand away, taking another step back, “Don't touch me!” he said sharply, voice raised.

He started to walk away and Sapnap stopped in front of him, “Hey George, just let him explain, it's not what it seems-” 

“Get the fuck out my way Sapnap,” He said tightly, eyes burning.

Sapnap looked up at him, guilt lining his eyes, “Just give him a chance to explain George.”

George scoffed and pushed past him, rushing for the exit, he felt eyes on his back from every direction. Humiliation and panic filled him up from the inside, his mind filled with static. He pushed through the doors and felt the rain pour down on him, typical.

He wasn’t sure when but at some moment he had started running, with no direction in sight he continued onwards and he didn't stop until his legs burned and his lungs tightened in pain.

Eventually he doubled over breathlessly, on the side of a deserted street. Rain soaked his entire body and his heart pounded loudly. He wasn't sure if it was tears or rain running down his cheeks, wasn't particularly sure if he cared.

His entire body ached to the core, but the worst part was the sharp pain directed in the center of his chest, it _burned._ He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he’d told Dream, his secrets. He’d laid himself bare for the man and for what? Only to be humiliated, to be played by a game he willingly partook in. 

He knew how far Dream would go to win, had known from the start. He’d signed onto the deal with the mind to beat the man at his own game; but somewhere along the way the rules had changed, at least it had for George. He’d assumed it had for Dream too, he’d assumed wrong.

He laughed bitterly to himself as he looked out onto the empty street, rain pouring harshly upon the pavement. How had he even got to this point? His own stupidity he supposed, because he’d let Dream in when he knew shouldn't have.

A small part of him still hoped that he was wrong, that Quackity had been mistaken, that Dream could explain everything simply. He had to believe it. Because if he didn't, that meant he’d kissed a man whose only intention was to beat him, who by all means was his rival. 

George shook his head and pushed his shoulders back, determined to push through this painful feeling. The competition was tomorrow, and he had a game to win. He’d face Dream off on the ice, as it was always destined to be.

George could remain strong now, he could fall apart another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOPE U LIKED!!! <33
> 
> pls leave a comment and kudos if u enjoyed i literally live for them !!
> 
> come follow me on twitter too: CH4RLOTTE404


	3. melt it all away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream deal with the after-mass, and the competition begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey !! 
> 
> this is the last chapter to the fic and omg i enjoyed writing this sm :’)
> 
> hope u enjoy !!! prepare for the angst lol

The whole arena is filled with teeming chatter and raised voices, the atmosphere electric. Dream scours the stands for any sign of the british man, systematically trailing his eyes over the crowd. But it’s no use; he’s not here.

Dream thinks he’d be able to seek George out in the dark, would feel his presence like static through the air. And right now, he feels nothing.

He’d just finished his routine 20 minutes ago, he should be celebrating or talking to the journalists like he usually did. Everything had gone perfect, not a single flaw or falter to his steps. He should be happy, should be ecstatic. Instead he feels nothing but dread, nothing but this cold sinking feeling inside of him.

He knows why, he’s not stupid. He’d taken his final bow towards the judges, smile wide as he gazed across at the crowd, but something was missing. Everything had gone right, but he hadn’t seen George anywhere, didn't even know if he’d bothered to watch. And that had been unexpected, he hadn’t been prepared for the shooting disappointment that ran through him.

He had no one to blame but himself, he’d done this, he’d messed everything up. 

George was up next after the current skater, in 20 minutes or less; Dream had to find him before he got on the ice, had to tell him before it was too late. Because despite everything that had happened, he needed George to know the truth before he went out there.

He couldn’t get the man's face out of his head, the look of betrayal and hurt he wore on his face when he’d found out. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, he didn't plan to get attached to the british man like this, hadn’t anticipated how quickly he’d fall. And now he was left with nothing but panic and fear, because he was going to loose George, the first person who’d made him feel alive.

He thought back to all their late night conversations, secret smiles and stares, all those conversations missing their link. The way George would gaze up at Dream when he thought he wasn’t looking, when he’d look away, an unseen blush painting his face. And now it was gone, replaced by nothing but pain and anger. His heart  _ ached.  _

If he could go back and change everything he would, but it was too late. Everything had bubbled over and slipped out, leaving nothing but ruin in its wake. 

If he could just find the man, then maybe he could correct his mistakes- maybe it didn't have to be over, maybe the man would understand, would realise when he saw the look in Dreams eyes, nothing but undiluted love.

_ Maybe maybe maybe. _

Before he could panic any further, Sapnap skidded over to him, grabbing his shoulder, “Dream! George, I saw him!” he got out, breathlessly, “I saw him go into the toilets near the changing rooms on floor 2, you’ve still got time to explain!”

Dreams eyes widened, heart pounding furiorusly, “Fuck! Okay okay I'm on my way,” He rushed, but before he started running off he turned to sapnap, voice softer, “Thanks man, for doing all this, for helping when I fucked up, I love you.”

”Love you too man,” Sapnap grinned in return, “Now go get your man!”

Dream laughed in answer before he shot off in the direction of George

He raced over stairs and corridors, legs burning and mind racing before he finally approached the bathroom, skidding to a halt as he reached the door. Letting his breath come back and praying that the man was still in there, he slowly pushed the door open. George stood at the end sink, hands gripping the counter and staring into the mirror anxiously.

Dream was dumbstruck at the sight of him; he was dressed in his show outfit, a dark navy suit, embedded with gems up the sides and slightly flared cuffs. His hair had been gelled back, with a single curl falling over his forehead, it was breathtaking.

He didn't look as terrible as Dream had worried he might, he showed no signs of exhaustion or panic; but when his head swivelled around, his eyes immediately flashed with anger. The man's eyes had been rimmed in black eyeliner, making the fire inside them burn that much brighter.

“What the fuck are you doing here Dream?” he spit out, eyes scorching,

“George,” he got out, slightly speechless, “George, I need to talk to you. Please.”

An unreadable expression passed over the man's face before he pulled it back up into a scowl, “I don't have time for this, I’m up in less than 10 minutes!”

“George please just listen!” He started, and when George started to walk towards the door he stood directly in his way, grabbing his shoulder, “Not all of it was a lie George!”  _ not all of it. _

George's eyes flash with hurt and he stepped back again, “What do you want from me Dream?” He shouted back, “How do i know this isn’t just some plot to throw me off my game before the match!”

Dream felt that hot searing ache flash through him again at the reminder of how much hurt he’d caused, at how much pain the man was now in. “George i’m sorry okay! I’d never try to do that I-”

“Your sorry!?” The man cut in, incredulously, “You make all these promises and you weave your way in, and leave me with nothing!” He carried on, pain lacing his voice, “I trusted you Dream! How can I ever trust a single word you say again!?”, 

_ I trusted you.  _ Dream had to tell him, before it was too late.

“Because I love you!” He shouted, cutting him off, “I  _ love  _ you George!” 

George stared back at him, shocked silent, his eyes had gone wide and his face was the picture of perfect tragedy. Dream felt his heart pound forcefully within him, so loud he could hardly hear anything else. He didn't know why he’d said it, but it was out now and he couldn't take it back as a lie, they’d both heard the sincerity in his words.

George's eyes flashed over and an unreadable expression washed over his face, he glanced up to the clock at the wall and then back down to Dream, pain and guilt in his expression, “I’m sorry Dream i have to go, i can’t do this right now.”

And with that George pushed past him and out the door, leaving only silence in his wake. Dream turned his face to the mirror of the bathroom, shocked by the ache in his eyes and the strain in his face.

_ I can’t do this right now. _

  


_ * _

  


George steps out onto the ice and the crowd emerges in applause, he thinks vaguely in the distance he hears Quackity shouting his name, feels some comfort knowing he’s out there. It’s not so different with a mass of people watching him, as long as he drowns out the voices and focuses solely on the music drifting through. 

He glides to the middle and takes a bow towards the judges; forces a smile towards the gathering crowd in the stands. It's just as he’d imagined, but it's not the same. He has everything he wanted but all he thinks is  _ Dream.  _

He pictures dirty blonde hair and shining eyes. Pictures the agony in his eyes as he stood there in the bathroom and laid himself bare.  _ Dream Dream Dream.  _

The music starts overhead,  _ love you in the dark by adele;  _ soft piano drifts onto the arena and the crowd quietens. It's now or never. His heart pounds quicker and his breath quickens; it’s all been leading up to this, every decision he took, every mistake. This was the finale.

Taking a deep gulp, he finally sets off, his feet moving on instinct. He throws his utter being into the steps, skating and gliding with everything he has.

_ I can't love you in the dark, It feels like we're oceans apart _

_ There is so much space between us, Baby, we're already defeated _

He thinks he feels Dreams eyes on him, but he doesn't look up, doesn't dare. Knows that if he looks, he’ll break, he’ll throw away everything. Knows that Dreams eyes will pin him down, filled with pain and guilt.

_ Please don't fall apart, I can't face your breaking heart _

_ I'm trying to be brave, Stop asking me to stay _

He quickens his pace, coming up to the buildup, the final jump, can feel the crowd buzzing in anticipation as he continues turn after turn, leaping and gliding. He thinks back to everytime he failed to complete the jump, the doubt and hesitation always stemming from his own fear. But he’s not afraid anymore, it’s a shocking revelation.

His father, the injuries, trust, love; he’d held onto it for so long and it had gotten him nowhere. He thought back to Dream in that room, eyes wide and vulnerable but shockingly unwavering, he wasn't afraid, and neither was George, not anymore.

_ I don't regret a thing, Every word I've said, You know I'll always mean _

He clears his mind and jumps, turning and turning and turning, slicing through the air. The fear and impulse rises up, but he pushes it down and completes the move, gliding back to the floor and skating into a deep bow at the front. He’d done it.

The piano drifts out and he raises his head up to the crowd, a wide smile stretching over. The crowd goes wild and it’s everything he’d pictured, his heart beats triumphantly and the judges stand up in applause. 

He finally looks towards the edge of the stands, where a blonde man stands by the edge, eyes pinning him down. George feels his heart warm and he stares back, eyes softer. Whatever happened, it would be okay he thinks.

Dream looks up to behind him, towards where the scoreboard updates and he hears the crowds start to gasp, he turns around on impulse and feels his breath stutter. In large letters, George's name stands in first place, a score of 94 in comparison to Dreams 93. He’d won. He’d actually  _ won. _

He turns back to where Dream stood across the arena, It’s hard to visualize from such a distance but he sees the man give a sad smile in return before walking away. No anger or pain, just resigned. His eyes widen as the American disappears out of view, swallowed up by the crowd.

Before George can follow on after, the skating crew and his coach come swarming onto the ice, ushering him off with congratulations.

It all becomes a blur after that, a whirlpool of cameras and applause, people he’d never spoken to before, clapping him on the back, telling him they knew he’d win. It was overwhelming, but it was just as he;d expected. He had looked across onto the empty ice, smiling slightly, picturing how proud his Dad would've been. Despite all his convictions, he’d never actually believed he’d  _ win _ . 

He attempts to send messages to Dream while his coach handles the press, calling him up with no answer. His coach sends him exasperated side glances as she continues to deal with the signing and the skating crew.

After the initial wave of congratulations, he’s ushered onto the microphone stand as Journalists ask him questions, but his coach had prepared him for it, for the glaring cameras and eyes.

They ask him question after question, some intrusive.  _ Who trained you? Did you know you’d win? Why haven't you competed before? _

The last question takes him by surprise as a woman presses a lens up in front of him asking, “What do you have to say to your main rival Dream, 3rd time consecutive winner, who you beat by only a point?”

His breath falters for a second as Dream's name pounds through his mind. What  _ would  _ he say? He’d say what he should've said in the bathroom, what he should have said that night on the ice rink, shared kisses in the dark. What he’s always known.

He takes a deep breath and looks at the camera, “I’d tell him that his performance today was exceptional, and that despite our rivalry, i can easily say that he’s one of the best skaters i've ever watched.” He feels a faint smile reach his face, “I’d tell him that out of everyone in the world, there's no one else I would've rather skated against.  _ No one else.”  _

It's not the full story, but he’d rather say the rest to the man in person, face to face.

He steps off the podium then, telling them no further questions. As he looks up to the edge of the hall, he sees Sapnap watching him closely, a sad smile on his face. 

Before he walks over, he quickly rechecks his phone only to see that Dream hasn’t responded to any of his missed calls or texts. Nothing, like he’d gone radio silent. He knew the man wasn’t responding on purpose, was usually attached to his phone. It hurt more than he’d care to admit.

George frowns and makes his way over to Sapnap who's starting to walk out, following him outside to the private rooms. 

He stops in front of Sapnap, a frown on his face, “Hey do you know where Dream is?” he asks,

Sapnap stares back, a confused expression on his face, “No have you tried calling him?”

“Yeah but he’s not answering any of my calls. I saw him just as the announcement was called but he walked away somewhere.” he replied, a frantic undertone in his voice.

Sapap frowns deeper, “Did he- did he talk to you before the show?”

George winces at the reminder, “Um yeah. It um- it didn't go so well.”

Sapnap looks slightly pained at that, looking torn between saying something and keeping his mouth shut, “Look I- I don’t know if he’d want me saying this-” He pauses again, before meeting Georges eyes and carrying on, “Look- i know what Quackity told you- but you don't know the whole truth, not even Dream knows himself,”

He frowns at that but let's Sapnap keep talking,

“It’s true that he did tell me that was his original plan, but it was never the full truth- never his full intention. The truth was he's been obsessed with you since the moment you stepped into his life, and every little interaction, every little jab, every stupid plan- it was all just his messed up way of getting closer to you.” Sapnap laughs at George's shocked expression, “I know, disgusting right?” 

“And if you need any further proof that he never intended to use you- that night i dropped you off when you were drunk- Dream told me everything- he even told me and i quote! -  _ I’d be happy to loose to someone like George because he deserves it more than anyone-  _ Like Dream, who’s the biggest sore loser I've ever met said that! I mean he was drunk but still it’s-”

“Sapnap!” George cuts in, unable to hear anymore, “I know!”

Sapnap whips his head towards him,wearing a dumbfounded expression, “What!?” 

“I know.” George repeats, “He told me he loved me.”

Sapnaps eyebrows rise up to the roof, “Wow. Who would’ve thought.” he says slowly, before shaking his head and looking stupidly across at George, “Wait what did you say back!?”

George paused slightly, wincing, “Um. Nothing”

“Nothing?!” Sapnap shouts, “Oh good lord that poor man.” He pushes a hand across his face, “God no wonder he won't answer your calls.”

George glares back at him, “Not helping. Can you at least help me find him?”

Sapnap rolls his eyes, “Fuck you two are so godamn annoying! I am seriously gonna kill you both!” George narrows his eyes back at him and Sapnap shakes his head, “Fine! Okay, well if he’s not answering his phone, he’s probably off somewhere moping in self pity. He’ll want to go outside, but not somewhere he can be found easily.”

Sapnap thinks to himself for an agonisingly long amount of time before his eyes spark up and he looks up, “The roof! God why didn't i think of it sooner. He always used to go up there if he was sad or angry about his dad or something; i’m guessing that's where he'll be now!” 

George's heart thuds forcefully in his chest and he reaches for the handle, “Thank you! Your help is appreciated!” he replies back to Sapnap,

The man rolls his eyes, “Yeah yeah whatever- just go get your man Jesus christ!”

George feels himself grin despite the situation and he rushes off out the door, feet taking him up and up and up. Despite the ache in his muscles, he rushes up as fast as his legs will take him, sheer determination rushing through his blood. 

His stomach squirms in anticipation and dread, praying that Sapnap was right and he hadn’t screwed everything up. Because he had so much more to say to Dream, so many unspoken words that he’d yet to speak. Dream had laid himself bare, revealing everything with no assurance. If he could do it then so could George.

He had some confessions of his own to make.

  


*

  


Dream stared out across at the world, a certain numbness spreading through him, all the way to his chest. He felt utterly adrift, with nothing left to grasp onto. Because what was he without his ice skating? He thought he knew, he thought that maybe George could be something he could finally have, something of his own. He was wrong.

_ I trusted you. I love you. I can’t do this. _

He kept replaying the scene in his head, picking through it to pinpoint it had gone so wrong. He didn't understand how he’d got it so wrong. George didn't love him; maybe the man had a crush, some sort of connection, but Dream had long burnt that bridge with his stupid schemes. 

What did Dream know about love anyway? For him there hadn't been love, it had always been ice skating and ambition. He’d thought that maybe it would be enough, but now sitting here on the roof, the sun slowly starting to dip, he realised how wrong he’d been.

He took the cigarette out his jacket pocket, finally giving in to the urge.  _ Bad habits die hard.  _ He brought the lighter up to his mouth, igniting the stick. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air and he relished the burn in his lungs, the familiar sensation of the nicotine. 

He thought back to his fathers anger, the way he’d made Dream promise to stop smoking, ‘ _ don't ruin your career for a dirty habit. It’ll bring you nothing of value!’. _ He supposed it didn’t matter now anyway, he’d been left with nothing and no one. 

His dad hadn’t even come to watch the competition, was out on business; he probably expected him to ring and reveal the results. Dream had thought he’d be crushed if he lost the tournament, that he’d rage and let anger take route, but he found himself strangely unmoved. He’d thought that if he’d cry, it would be to mourn the loss of his title, but now as tears welled up in his eyes, he found that it was for an entirely different reason. 

_ I love you I love you I love you. _

He took another drag, the cigarette slowly burning away. He thought back to all the late night sessions, the way he’d told himself it was all part of his grand scheme, that he’d finally unravel the man that couldn't be cracked. But he’d played himself, he’d lost himself to the game, hadn’t even realised the way he’d slowly fell deeper and deeper until it was too late. Because now he was the one who’d become unravelled, he was now the one who sat alone on the rooftop of a national arena, who’d started the season with everything and left with nothing. 

Behind him he hears the heavy door of the roof slowly click open and feels a presence lurking behind him; he knows who it is, would be able to sense the man out even in the dark.  _ George.  _ He doesn't dare look around, doesn’t even dare to breathe. 

He feels his body straighten with tension, he has no idea why the british man is here, or how he even found him. He never knows with George, always feels wrenched from orbit, so far out from what he knows. 

The man slowly walks over and sits beside him on the edge of the roof, not saying a word. Dream feels his presence like a flame beside him, but still he doesn’t turn around, not ready to take whatever expression the man wears. Is he angry? Sad? Pitiful? He has no idea.

Instead he looks over as the sun sinks low in the sky, blended colours on the horizon, and lets his cigarette continue to burn. He feels the man staring at him, eyes burning holes into him, he holds his breath in anticipation.

“I thought you didn't smoke?” George says, quiet and thoughtful, 

“Old habits die hard,” He answers, reflecting the mans answer from weeks ago, before everything had become so messy.

He hears George laugh softly, he feels the sound reverberate the air between them, his chest warms at the sound, eyes straining to glance over, to catch a glimpse of the man who’d ruined him. 

“Why won't you look at me?” George asks slowly,

Dream takes in a deep sigh, eyes squeezing shut, he truly  _ hates  _ the man for doing this, for breaking him then sitting here, all soft edges, as if nothing had occurred, as if his life was utterly unchanged.

“Because it hurts George.” He says in answer, voice strained.

He can sense the man frowning next to him and his body finally gives into the urge and he looks over at the man, breath faltering at the sight.

The sun descends in the sky and paints the man in deep purple and pink hues, colours brushed upon his face like a work of art- a piece capturing the simplest moments in the soul. Everything about him looked softer, eyes alight with the last orange rays of the sun, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

It physically hurt him to look, could feel the way it pained his chest. He looked away quickly, heart heavy as he stubbed the cigarette out, watching the way the ashes flowed out with the wind, lost forever.

“I’m sorry,” George says slowly,

Dream frowns to himself, “Sorry for what?” 

He can hear the man wince as he says, “For winning i guess, i know it must suck to lose the title, i’m not here to gloat.”

He scrunches his eyes shut, unable to bear the quietness in the man's voice, “Then what  _ are  _ you here for?

“I- well- “ George starts, fumbling for words, “I just didn't want you to be stuck up here, upset about losing, didn't want you to be alone.” 

Dream feels his anger rise up again, with nowhere else to go; anger at himself, at George, at the world. Feels resentment that he has to go through this  _ again,  _ because being turned down once clearly wasn't enough.

He rubs a hand across his face in frustration, turning to the man, “Why are you even here George? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your  _ victory?” _

He sees the man flinch slightly, taken aback by his raised voice, he feels his chest burn again. The man bites his lip in thought again, Dream grips the edge of the roof, mind buzzing.

“Look Dream, i get that your upset about your loss, but i just-”

“I’m not upset about the fucking competition!” He cuts in, voice loud, sees George's eyes go wide and he lowers his tone slightly, “I was never upset about losing the trophy.”

George sighs out a quiet, “ _ oh,”  _ brows still drawn together, eyes unreadable.

Dream’s heart beats wildly in his chest, knows this is the moment he gets shut down again,  _ I can't do this.  _ His body holds still as he waits for the blow, for the bitter words to come.

“I looked for you out in the crowd.” the man says instead, and Dream feels the agitation come back, hates George for prolonging this. He looks down to the man, eyes narrowed, questioning. 

The shorter man looks up to him, his lips bear the semblance of a soft smile, while his eyes glitter with uncertainty, 

“I looked for you in the crowd because you were the only person i wanted to celebrate with,” George says, voice shaky,

Dream frowns, waiting for the blow that never comes. He feels utterly speechless, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Because in that single moment, nothing else mattered. Because all I could think about was  _ you.  _ Because the competition wasn’t important, not in comparison. Because even if i had won, it didn't matter if i didn't have you there with me.”

Dream can hardly breathe, feels his throat close up, “What are you  _ saying  _ George.”, his voice coming out slightly strained, he feels his mind start to glow with faint hope, the fire in his chest coming alight.

George takes a deep breath, as if bracing for impact, “I’m saying that nothing else mattered without you, because - because i  _ love you.”  _

Dreams thoughts halt to a stop and his eyes go wide, mouth opening then closing again, utterly frozen. George loved him. George loved him too. George loved him and here they were sitting on the rooftop painted in the colours of the descending sun. 

“Please say something.” the man gets out, voice pained

But Dream doesn’t have any words left to say, feels utterly unraveled, words spilling out of him and dissipating into the air. Instead he reaches his hands up to George's face, pulling him in, and joins their lips together.

The man makes a small noise of surprise before melting into the kiss and Dream thinks  _ finally.  _ Because he thinks he’s been waiting for this the moment he saw the man skating on the rink, the moment they locked eyes. Because this, this was everything, and he was never letting go.

The kiss is a million thoughts condensed into one, a promise of realness. 

He only comes up for air once his head feels dizzy, their ragged breaths mingling together in the space between them.

“I love you too” He whispers out into the space between them, voice hoarse.

He feels George grin next to him, “I know,”

He laughs out breathlessly, chest warm, “Wow, someones cocky now,”

“I know i just won a national competition,” the man retorts, voice full of amusement,

“Ugh, you're such an idiot.” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, 

He feels Georges answering smile against his mouth, “Yeah, but I'm  _ your  _ idiot.”

The air is icy around him, but he leans into George and the rest of the world melts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA hope u liked !!!!!!
> 
> pls leave a comment to lmk what you thought because it honestly makes my day <33 (literally anything)
> 
> oh also leave comments down for future fic recs cos i wanna write some more soon :D
> 
> hope u have a great rest of ur day😁
> 
> also go listen to cigarettes after sex they’re music is a godsend

**Author's Note:**

> HOPE U LIKED!!!!😁  
> kudos and comments r swag and they will make me cry  
> lmk what u thought of it and next chapters coming soon !!  
>   
> come follow me on twitter: [catb0ygnf](https://twitter.com/catb0ygnf)


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